


Patching Wounds

by nimbob94



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Fluff, Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich Are the Same Age, M/M, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimbob94/pseuds/nimbob94
Summary: The brunette was panting and trying to catch his breath, a mischievous smile on his face as he closed the door and leaned his back against it, his head tilted upwards as his breathing started to slow.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 14
Kudos: 101





	Patching Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's been a while. I was in a rut and couldn't find the motivation to write anything until last week when I saw a text post on tumblr that spurred on this idea, so here we are. It's short and sweet, and for the sake of the story the boys are the same age, I'm gonna say about 17.
> 
> Thank you Kelsey and Midori for always encouraging me and shouts out Richie for volunteering themselves to be the person getting beat up by Mickey.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @nimbob94

Ian looked up from where he had been doing his math homework in the living room, the sound of the kitchen door swinging open disrupting him from figuring out the answer to the equation he was working on. 

“Mickey?” Ian asked rhetorically at the sight of his best friend. 

The brunette was panting and trying to catch his breath, a mischievous smile on his face as he closed the door and leaned his back against it, his head tilted upwards as his breathing started to slow.

-

It wasn’t unusual for him to burst into the Gallagher house unannounced, it was almost a daily occurrence as the boys grew closer over the years. But as they reached their later teenage years, it seemed that Mickey had been using his best friend's house as a hideaway when he was trying to outrun the police or someone he had roughed up who wasn’t backing down.

Mickey Milkovich had certainly gotten himself a reputation on the south side. His last name alone instilled fear into most people he came across, although others mistook his stature for lack of strength. Those people soon learned that wasn’t the case. 

Mickey had always been there for Ian when they were growing up. Kids on the playground were cruel when it came to a skinny, ginger kid, but Mickey would simply punch them in the gut, tell them to “Shut the fuck up!” and Ian would be left alone. 

Their friendship began one day in first grade when they were making houses out of popsicle sticks. Mickey was frustrated and had gotten glue all over his hands while attempting to attach the roof of his house to the walls and Ian had been there to hold the walls up for him. It only fell down two or three times before they got it to stand up on its own but there was a smile on Mickey’s face by then. They’d been inseparable ever since. 

Mickey’s first stint in juvie had been hard for both of them. But somehow it only made them closer, with Ian visiting him every week, and Mickey calling him almost daily, they had both started to develop stronger feelings for each other that weren’t strictly platonic. Of course, they knew about each other’s sexuality, but they never spoke about how they felt for one another. 

Ian had come to pick him up along with Mandy and their embrace once they were together again only increased their feelings tenfold. 

-

Ian took in the bruised knuckles on Mickey’s hands, a mess of blood and dirt on the back of his right hand where it looked like he’d scratched it on something. He sighed as he got the first aid kit down from on top of the fridge, gesturing for Mickey to sit down at the table in front of him, the routine familiar by now. 

“Do I even wanna know what happened this time?” Ian asked as he tore open the sachet of the disinfectant wipe. He took Mickey’s right hand in his, bending at the waist so he could get a better look as he cleaned the wound. 

Mickey winced as the disinfectant started to work, his fingers flexing as if he wanted to snatch his hand away. Ian only held on tighter.

“Richie owed me for the 8 ball I sold them last weekend, fucker wouldn’t pay up so I had to teach ‘em a lesson,” Mickey thumbed at his nose with his left hand as he spoke. “But the cops pulled up before I was done with them so I booked it, had to hop a couple fences, ended up falling on my ass trying to hop into Mrs. Keating’s back yard, hence the blood.”

Ian shook his head as he wrapped a bandage around Mickey’s hand. “You gotta be more careful, Mick,” he chided as he taped the bandage in place. His hand moved to lay on Mickey’s shoulder, his thumb grazing the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “What am I gonna do if you get sent to juvie again, huh? I need someone in my corner here.”

It was a loaded sentence, though Ian’s tone was playful, he could hear the nervous tinge in his tone. Mickey knew how alone Ian felt despite the full house he lived in. Middle child syndrome had affected Ian for as long as Mickey could remember, he always felt left behind in his family. But he could always count on Mickey to be there for him. 

“You don’t gotta worry about that, alright?” Mickey reassured him, his newly bandaged hand gripping onto Ian’s wrist, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the skin there. ”I ain’t going anywhere.”

There was a moment then where they both felt a shift. Their eyes met and the weight of the moment was palpable. Ian’s thumb stilled where it was stroking Mickey's hairline and Mickey’s thumb stilled where it was stroking Ian’s wrist. 

Mickey’s eyes were drawn to Ian’s lips, flitting down before going back up to meet his eyes. He bit his lip as he debated what he’d been wanting to do for months now. Ultimately, Ian made the decision for him. 

Their lips met.

Ian’s hand gripped the back of Mickey’s head and Mickey’s hand tightened on Ian’s wrist once again. They melted into each other as their lips moved together.

The kiss was innocent and soft. It was reassuring and sweet. It was exactly what they had both needed in that moment. It was a promise of commitment to each other.

Slowly, they broke away, Ian’s eyes flitting to the floor before meeting Mickey’s gaze once again. A small smile played on his lips, and Mickey bit his own in return, looking away as a blush crept up on his cheeks. 

“You staying for dinner, Mickey?” Fiona asked as she came down the stairs, interrupting the moment the two boys were frozen in. 

They broke apart, Ian standing upright abruptly and busying himself with tidying away the first aid kit. Mickey looked down at his bandaged hand, fiddling with the tape as he averted his eyes. 

“We’re having spaghetti,” Fiona seemed oblivious to the tension in the room as she took out the various ingredients she needed, setting them on the counter. “I’m sure we’ll have enough for one more mouth.”

“Y‘know, I was really looking forward to the pop tarts I was saving for dinner but I guess they’ll hold ‘til tomorrow,” Mickey joked, shooting Ian a playful smirk as he spoke.

Ian batted his arm with his left hand, muttering “dumbass,” as he turned toward the fridge to replace the first aid kit. He didn’t miss the upturn of the redhead’s lips as he turned though. 

If sticking around meant keeping that smile on Ian’s face, then maybe staying out of trouble wouldn’t be so hard after all.


End file.
